29 and 30 weeks

Wow...I just realized I haven't even taken a picture of myself since 28 weeks. Oops.  And right now the thought of putting on pants to take a picture makes my skin want to turn inside out, so we are going to have to suffice for a promise of pictures later.  Today's activities include sitting in PB's recliner since he is at his parents' house watching football, reading my Kindle, and not achieving much of anything.

Marination Time: 30 weeks, 4 days as of today.  Holy moly.

Musings on the Weekly Photo: I'll take one.  ASAP.  I swear.  Maybe tomorrow, or tonight if dinner involves me putting on pants.

This Week's Produce Item(s): 

And that applies to both week 29 and week 30...I guess if The Bump figures they don't need to update pictures weekly at this point, then neither do I.  

Real Life Baby-Measuring Item of the Week:

Baby's the size of a loaf of bread this week!  

Currently Craving: I've had a hankering for more coconut cake ever since Christmas.  I am pretty sure I could eat a whole one.

Currently Avoiding: Have I avoided anything in the last 6 months?  That's why I'm such a walrus.

Weight: See above.  Managed to lose about 5 pounds during my little bout with having the flu or something horribly similar, but put it all right back on, and am now up to 163. Woof.

Symptoms: In the past 4 days or so, I feel like I have sort of hit a wall.  I just feel SO much bigger all of a sudden and it's hard for me to move around nearly as easily.  Getting out of a chair, rolling out of bed, undecorating the Christmas tree - all nearly insurmountable obstacles at times.  I also pass out on the couch about 10pm no matter what.  My hips and lower back tend to throb at night, but the heartburn may have eased just a tad, which is a plus.  Or heck, maybe I'm just getting more used to it.  Don't get me wrong though, I still don't have many complaints and I'm still feeling like I'll miss being pregnant when it's all said and done.

Belly Button Status: It's all out, all wrong, all wonky, and you can see it through like two layers of clothes.

Sleep Grade: Has been fine, so long as I'm not sick with the plague.  Otherwise, my hips and lower back are pretty sore and don't let me lie around and sleep in on mornings off.  It definitely becomes necessary to get up and go sit on the couch or in the recliner.  

Movement: Still lots of movement, and this week I have felt him get the hiccups a few times!  Super cool.  It just feels like little, tiny rhythmic jumps in there.

Appointments:

Well, I know you were all waiting with bated breath to hear the results of the dreaded gestational diabetes test.  I like calling it the GD test, because I'm usually mentally cursing when I speak of it.

So, last we left off, the nurse told me I had to go back for the blankety-blank three hour test.  Which I did. Took a whole day off work, which turned out to be great because I was SO SICK.  I'm talking full blown flu like horribleness.  Fever, chills, coughing, aching, can't-lift-your-head-off-the-couch sick.  I pretty much slept for about 15 minutes the night before and ate basically nothing the day before.  Forget fasting, I felt too crappy to eat anyway.

I got to the doctor's office looking like a homeless person.  Leggings, long sleeved t-shirt, Ugg boots, no makeup, hair on top of my head.  Basically, I looked like I felt.

I didn't see a doctor, just the poor lady whose calling in life is to stick people with needles. The drill is, you go back to the lab room, they stick you, and you don't care because you feel so crappy anyway.  Then they pull another delicious bottle of sicky sweet orange drink out of the cooler and give you another 5 minutes to chug it like you're drinking PJ out of a trash can at a frat party.  Then it's back to the waiting room to sit there for an hour.  

I ask if there's anywhere I could lie down....I don't care where.  A maintenance closet, some empty stirrups, anywhere will work.  But no, they are too busy and all of their exam rooms are full.  So it's back to the straight chair in the waiting room, with the suggestion that I "try to take a nap." Are you kidding me? I couldn't sleep in my king sized bed the night before due to coughing, hacking, and general misery.  How do you think it's going to go in a straight backed chair in an OB waiting room?  

At this point, I became an excellent people watcher.  It astounds me the way people behave in the doctor's office.  No wonder they seem to have an air of general dislike for their patients.  First there's me, coughing like I have tuberculosis, then there's the couple who brought in a huge bag of smelly sausage biscuits for breakfast that they proceeded to eat in the middle of the waiting room, and the parents who are letting their two year old hit the tap on the water cooler, soaking the entire floor while she laughs.  Wow.

Then the lab tech comes back after an hour, takes more blood from your other arm, and sends you back to waiting room hell.  Rinse, repeat, for two more hour waiting periods and two more sticks.  The sicky orange drink makes you feel like all heck anyway, and on top of the flu, I felt I might perish in the waiting room among the random masses of people filing in and out of the office.

Of course, they called me two days later to tell me that I failed the test.  You have to have 3 of 4 readings considered "normal" to pass - I barely failed two of them.  This meant a lot of crying, emailing my Bradley instructor, eventually calling back and asking to be retested, which they refused to do, even though every piece of information about the test ever archived by Google says that blood sugar is drastically affected by illness.  I was told, "Well, remember this is for your baby's health."  I completely lost my mind on the nurse at that point, because they had also refused to give me a referral to a specialist, or any directions about how to treat myself whatsoever, for at least another week because it would "take that long" for the lady who does transfer paperwork to "get to my chart."  Imagine me sitting in the school cafeteria while my kids are at lunch, on the phone with the OB nurse, saying, "IF THIS IS SO IMPORTANT, THEN SHOULDN'T YOU BE ABLE TO FAX ME A REFERRAL?"  

The referral ended with me seeing the most overly perky dietitian I could ever imagine, who likes to use the terms "ladies" and "little ones" about 5 times a sentence.  At any rate though, my blood sugar was 78 after consuming a Bojangle's sausage biscuit and a Bo-berry biscuit about 40 minutes before my blood draw, and it only ever went up to 82.  My a1C as a 5.0, which is great even for someone who "doesn't have" diabetes.  

Really, I just feel like they have slapped me with this label and now I feel like I am going to have to fight to refuse inductions and c-sections and all that mess at the end.  I also feel like I am going to have to fight them sticking my poor kid 820320932023 times after he's born and trying to give him a bottle.  Sigh.  Though apparently pregnancy has totally eviscerated any sense of manners or dignity I once had, so I reckon I'm ready to say whatever craziness I need to say to avoid all of that.  

I know all of y'all are not nearly as interested in my GD drama as I am, but I wanted to record all that for posterity, because just for the record, it sucks.

Highlights of the Week: 

If you stuck with me through that mess, then I am going to reward you and pull out the big guns - Mom got a 3D ultrasound for us for Christmas!!!  It was so cool to be able to look in there and see his little face.  

And just for fun - who do you think he looks more like? 

Here he is with PB's baby picture:

And here he is with my baby picture:

We get to go back on Thursday, because he has a big 20 foot cord that he has in a giant wad in front of his face that he won't move.  We're hoping he's changed positions by next time so that we can get more good pictures!  I can't wait to go back!